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At a small table in the farthest corner of the only bar in Halloween Town, Jack fidgeted with a drink that he had swirled more than sipped—not that he had a reason to be so nervous. After all, it was just—well not just Sally, but at this point in their marriage, wasn’t he being a little silly? The echo of footsteps at the entrance broke him from his thoughts, and summoned his gaze towards—Oh gravestones.
Sally had insisted that her husband not even glimpse her latest dress until tonight, and as much as this had vexed him, Jack was now forced to admit that it had been an excellent decision on her end. She was an absolute vision in red. He ogled as the resplendent creature he called his wife pranced her way to the end of the bar, before taking his first real swallow of liquor that evening, steadying himself with a deep breath, and lazily ambling over.
“A glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, please.” He casually addressed the bartender. “For the lady.” He politely directed.
“Thank you.” She returned softly, eyelids lowered in such a coy manner that he vaguely wondered when she must have practiced. Not to be done in by a single glance, Jack hurriedly cleared his throat, and pushed on.
“Excuse me, Miss, but is this seat taken?” He inquired with a well-rehearsed smoothness.
“Not at all.” She answered demurely, already fighting to keep the fluster from her tone.
I love you.
“Thank you. May I have the pleasure of knowing who I’m conversing with this evening?” He queried, elbow propped up on the counter as he leaned comfortably against the bar.
“Sally.” She answered primly, gracefully extending her hand. “And you are?”
“Charmed, undoubtedly.” He purred, before taking it, and pressing a lingering kiss to the back. “But I hope you’ll call me Jack.” Delight bubbled in his chest as she ducked her head to hide the tell-tale violet now flourishing across her cheeks.
“How is it that I've never seen you before?” He queried with a wonder that came easily as he all but drowned in her wide, incandescent eyes, which cherished him from beneath a curtain of long, thick lashes.
“Maybe you have.” She shrugged impishly.
“No, I’m sure I would have remembered.” He jovially maintained.
“...I keep busy.”
“Ah!” He nodded pleasantly. “And, pray tell, what is it that deprives the rest of us of your splendor?” He could see her failing to suppress a bashful grin.
“I’m a seamstress.” She gestured lightly to her dress.
“And a skilled one at that!” He beamed. “May I?” Jack eagerly offered his hand. Sally gently lowered her palm into his, and carefully slid off the stool, before allowing him to lead her through an agonizingly slow twirl.
“…Lovely.” He croaked, before prompting clearing his throat, just to further be entranced by how daintily her fingertips met her amused smile, while her gaze glowed with the sweetness of her affection. Jack took his seat again, trying desperately to regain his composure, almost failing to notice the way she slipped back into the space beside him.
“You know,” she murmured in a low voice that made his limbs weak, “you’re quite the sharp dresser yourself.” She delicately smoothed his crimson tie down against his sternum, leaving him vaguely aware of her muffled laughter as all higher cognitive function abandoned him entirely.
“...Hmf.” Came his eloquent response. His wife giggled, before finally indulging in her wine. As Jack valiantly struggled to banish his stupor, a spark of mischief had the mercy to enter his mind.
“It’s strange,” Jack started, sitting up and recovering his flippant lean, “but you bear a remarkable resemblance to my first wife.”
Sally choked on her beverage, prompting him to pluck the handkerchief from his breast-pocket, and silently offer it to her. She quickly wiped her mouth, and fixed him with a frosty glare.
“Is that so?” She coldly demanded, as her husband suppressed a smirk.
“Yes.” He continued serenely, before he lowered his skull and sighed with a heavy longing.
“Devastatingly beautiful. Wonderfully quick. Brilliantly talented–and still so kind. One conversation with her, and I knew–I could never love another woman the way I would her.” He looked up from the counter to find her expression had softened. “What happened to her?” She quietly asked. He gave a small frown.
“Oh, I’ve never been married.”
Sally blinked at him for a moment before she burst out laughing, and playfully swatted him on the arm. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re more trouble than you're worth?” She chuckled fondly.
“I promise, I’m worth every ounce.” He swore with faux gravity, palm to his chest. “…I don’t suppose I could steal you away tonight to prove it?” He questioned, hesitation undermining the suggestion in his words.
“I was starting to worry you’d never ask.” She teased warmly.
Brightening, he stood, and presented his hand with a small bow. Rather than take it, Sally rested one hand on the top of his rib cage, while the other danced across his shoulder, up along his neck, and stopped to cradle his cheek. She closed the distance between them, and painstakingly pressed her lips to his. Jack froze, while she brushed her thumb against the side of his skull, and hummed contentedly. When she pulled away, his eye sockets were wide, his expression dazed. She beamed at her husband, grabbed the offered hand, and cheerfully led him out of the bar. Her giddy laughter rang out into the night as she smiled up at him. Jack’s expression was distant when he stared back, before he bent down, and kissed her with a tenderness that made her seams shiver. As they parted, she was struck by the reverence in his gaze.
“Jack?”
“Hm?”
“Slug for your thoughts?” She tried. He blinked at her, before his countenance shifted towards sheepish, and a bit pensive.
“…I know it’s silly, but…sometimes I wonder…what if we really were meeting like this for the first time?” He confessed quietly. “If we had met as different people, in completely different circumstances, could I still charm you into a romance? Would I have the chance to fall in love with you? Or would you slip past, leaving me completely blind to the loss?”
His wife’s brow furrowed in concern. “Jack, it was just a game.” She gently reminded him. He gave a wry smile.
“I know.” He agreed, squeezing her hand. “I simply…well, you know my mind has a tendency to wander.” He excused lightly.
“Alright, but just so you know, I would have loved you no matter who we were or how we met.” Sally stated, with such certainty it made him ache.
“And I would have been absolutely helpless for you.” Jack rasped, hardly able to speak through the adoration filling his throat.
His wife reached for his jaw, guided him down, and gingerly kissed his cheek. “Me too.” She whispered, beaming at him. “Jack Skellington, there isn’t a world that exists where I don’t love you.”